


at home together (in the shower tonight)

by Anonymous



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series), Watcher Entertainment (Web Series)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Barebacking, Established Relationship, Light Angst, Light BDSM, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shampoo As Lube, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 07:21:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23847376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Ryan reveals a little too much at the Independent Shakespeare Company, but Shane knows just how to make him feel better.
Relationships: Ryan Bergara/Shane Madej
Comments: 21
Kudos: 188
Collections: Anonymous





	at home together (in the shower tonight)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm putting a warning for mild but potentially triggering topics at the end due to spoilers. If you're a fan of Buzzfeed Unsolved, it's nothing you haven't heard before, but I'm pointing this out just in case.

"The shower, Ryan?" Shane asked, barely managing to suppress the underlying giggle in his voice.

"In my defense," Ryan said with an upward glance and a pointed finger, "practicing in the shower wouldn't sound so weird if you hadn't said we were gonna do it _together_."

"I said that first. You tacked on the shower thing after."

Ryan slunk down further into the passenger seat, trying not to feel like a kid on the receiving end of a talking-to after being picked up from soccer practice. "Like, a half-second later," he muttered. "I didn't have time to process the implication that we live in the same apartment."

"It's kind of hard _not_ to imply that," Shane pointed out, "and at least mine made sense."

Ryan raised his eyebrows, happy for an excuse to change the subject. "So now dancing in the shower doesn't make sense?"

"No, it doesn't. It's dangerous. Slippery as shit, for one thing. You know how many people break their necks doing that kind of stuff every year?"

"How many?"

"Probably a lot."

Ryan snickered. "You've really crunched those numbers, huh?"

"Do we have to make another video about the dangers of shower sex?" Shane asked in mocking disbelief. "Did the first one not get the point across?"

"I'm still not convinced," Ryan said dryly. "The evidence just isn't compelling."

With his cheek pressed to the glass, he couldn't actually see whether or not Shane was rolling his eyes, but the groan it elicited was satisfying enough.

They drove on in silence—not uncomfortable, as he knew Shane far too well to suspect every quiet moment that passed between them of being loaded somehow, but it was difficult to tell sometimes just what he was thinking under the tall, gangling, playful exterior.

"Hey," Ryan mumbled at a stoplight. He reached blindly across the console, fumbling around until Shane gave in and offered him a hand to squeeze. "You're not mad, right?"

"Of course I'm not mad," Shane said fondly. "Wasn't my idea to bend over backward to keep this quiet, you know."

"I know."

With nothing more to add, Ryan slotted their fingers together and brushed the pad of his thumb across Shane's knuckles. He didn't regret the decision to keep their relationship under wraps, and he didn't really regret telling the Shakespeareans a little more than they ever wanted to know or would probably believe, if he was being honest.

It was funny. Hilarious, even. The thought of them living together, showering together, living and showering and practicing the Charleston in the shower together. No one could take that seriously, and that was just the way they wanted it.

"Ryan?"

"Mmm?"

"We're home."

Ryan snapped out of his thoughts long enough to notice that the car had been parked. "Oh. Huh."

Shane lifted Ryan's hand to his lips, their fingers still interwoven. "Hey, you okay?"

Ryan gave a tired smile, only realizing it may not have been his most convincing work when Shane's expression of concern didn't fade. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Shane considered that for a second, his expression unreadable. "You know what I think will make you feel better?"

"Hmm?"

The twitching at the corners of his mouth instead of an answer piqued Ryan's interest. He unbuckled his seat belt, climbed out and closed the door, disappearing up the pathway leading to their apartment without another word. Ryan waited as he walked through their front door, content to simply observe him even when he knew he was being watched. There was no self-consciousness to the way Shane moved, with or without an audience, and it was something that Ryan had envied him for since the day they met.

That was a dangerous train of thought to chase at that moment, he suddenly realized. Maybe he could dodge it by leaving it in a hot car like the poor dogs in those PSAs.

While Ryan hadn't known quite what to expect when he walked in, he wasn't surprised to hear water running in the next room. Dancing was tough work, tougher than most people gave the professionals credit for, and the short time they had spent waiting for the air conditioning to kick in on the drive home hadn't helped when it came to getting sweaty.

Ready to forget the stress of the day and his own bad mood, he rapped twice on the bathroom door. "Is hogging all the hot water supposed to make me feel better?" He teased, loud enough to be heard over the spray. "Dick."

What he hadn't expected was for Shane to swing the door open, naked as the day he was born. He struck a tantalizing pose, stretching one pale arm across the doorway and bending the other to rest his chin on it.

"Just getting it warmed up for you," he said innocently. "Was that you that mentioned dick just now? 'Cause I think I might have what you're looking for."

Unable to string enough words together to form a witty comeback, Ryan settled for sticking his head in the bathroom with his mouth agape. 

"Are you suggesting..."

"Yep."

"In the shower?"

"Uh huh."

"You?" Ryan clarified. "That's, like, your third biggest fear in the whole world."

Shane, ditching the show of seduction, leaned in to kiss Ryan's forehead. "That's what love is about, right? Facing your fears," he said. "After this, maybe we'll have some avocado toast and shoot up heroin."

"Let's not get too crazy," Ryan said, already in the process of tugging his olive-colored t-shirt over his head. "I'd never ask you to face an avocado for me."

Shane grinned, stepping aside to give Ryan some room to strip and dump his clothes in the same pile as his own. "But heroin, that sounds like a good idea."

"It's LA, bro. I can find a guy," Ryan said, pausing the act of pulling off his socks long enough to do a shaka. He lifted his head after he was finished but before moving on to his pants, knitting his brows in confusion. "I think avocados might be the only thing easier to get than heroin around here. You sure moving to Southern California was the right choice?"

"Hasn't seemed like such a bad decision lately," Shane murmured. 

He poked Ryan's bare ankle with his toe, and Ryan's chest flooded with warmth as if leaning over had tipped all the butterflies out of his stomach. Before he could respond, however, Shane had already climbed into the tub and drawn the curtain.

"You know," Ryan said, only once he thought the color had faded from his cheeks, "this kind of bravery deserves a reward, I think."

"I have no idea what you mean," Shane said, pretending not to notice as Ryan ducked into the shower behind him. He faced the other direction, soaking his hair and scrubbing his fingers through it, but his look of surprise when Ryan spun him around by his hips looked less than disingenuous.

It had been embarrassing, in their first few tentative weeks, to have to rise on his tiptoes to kiss Shane, but the adoration in his eyes when he did made it well worth any blow to Ryan's pride. It hadn't bothered him in several months, and the thought hadn't occurred to him in almost that long, until he found himself having to do so on a wet surface. But if Shane was bold enough to try shower sex, then Ryan was half-convinced he could even blow Shane in a haunted house if he asked.

With one foot planted against the porcelain and his hands cradling Shane's jaw, Ryan pulled his boyfriend down into a kiss as the warmth of the water rained down on them from above.

"Dude," he whispered against Shane's lips. "This is just like _The Notebook_."

Shane's arms snaked around his waist, pulling him in closer and drawing him underneath the waterfall. He pulled back just enough to look Ryan in the eye for a long, tense moment, and when he finally opened his mouth to speak, Ryan braced himself.

"I don't recall Rachel McAdams having a mustache."

"You _asshole_." He shoved Shane's shoulder and reached for his wrist in the same fluid motion, making sure he didn't get too far before reeling him back in.

Their kiss grew more passionate in the blink of an eye, as Shane coaxed Ryan's mouth open and allowed him to savor the taste. Kissing Shane was something Ryan could never grow tired of, not when his boyfriend sucked at the tip of his tongue and gripped him hard enough to leave finger-shaped bruises for his clothes to brush against in the days to come. 

By the time they broke apart for air, Ryan was aching for any kind of friction, which he announced by brushing his cock against Shane's hip.

"You gonna fuck me, big guy, or are we just gonna stand here all day?" He whispered, giving Shane's bottom lip a nibble to get his point across.

Even in the dim light of the shower stall, Ryan watched Shane's pupils blow until just the thinnest ring of brown surrounded them. Despite his own clear arousal, however, Ryan was equally disappointed, frustrated and unsurprised when Shane released him with one hand to make a grab for the shampoo. 

"Really? That's what you're thinking about right now? _Thicker, fuller, healthier-looking hair_?" He read from the back of the bottle in the flattest tone he could manage.

"Volume is very important to me, Ryan," Shane replied calmly, too busy squeezing a fat dollop into his palm to concern himself with Ryan's thoughts on the matter.

Before he could protest with any more quips, Shane started massaging with both hands. Reluctantly accepting the fact that Shane was going to have to get through his bizarre shampoo fetish before any real foreplay started, Ryan turned around and allowed him to continue without any further interruption.

He'd never had his hair washed by someone else before, not counting any baths from his mom as a toddler that he didn't remember, and he couldn't imagine how Shane could gain anything worthwhile from it aside from teasing him until he was needy enough to beg. 

That was, at least, until Shane stopped rubbing the shampoo through his hair and started to scratch along his scalp instead.

"Oh my God," Ryan moaned, unable to bite his tongue fast enough to stop it.

He could feel the vibration of Shane's muffled laughter against his back, but he felt so good that he couldn't even muster the annoyance it would take to kick him. 

Ryan rolled his head from one shoulder to the other, allowing Shane to work his magic wherever his fingers happened to wander. When his knees began to wobble, he took one of Shane's elbows in hand and leaned further against him, allowing soft sounds of content to escape his throat without making any effort to filter them.

"You've been holding back on me," he sighed, no less aroused than he'd been minutes earlier during their make-out session. "I think this might be better than the sex."

"Thank you," Shane answered, sounding genuinely pleased by the backhanded compliment. "I learned it from Obi."

"Remind me to give Obi a treat later. A whole salmon or something. Skin on and everything."

"You'll spoil him," he said quietly, brushing his nose against the exposed side of Ryan's neck and pressing a line of soft, open-mouthed kisses there, despite the risk of tasting any soapy run-off. "Good. He deserves it." 

"Shane, not trying to sound impatient, but if you don't fuck me right now, I might actually come from this. Not joking."

Shane, either taking pity on him or having sated his shampoo kink, put a hand on Ryan's shoulder and slowly pushed him forward at the waist, bending him over until he had to reach out for the shower wall to catch his balance. It was a precarious position, clinging to the slick tile with only Shane's arms to keep him upright if his own gave way, but somehow the inherent danger of it all only made it more arousing.

With one arm securely locked around his waist, Shane reached for the shampoo again, drawing a look of confusion from Ryan. 

"Please tell me you're not about to wash your own hair right now."

"Yeah, Ryan," he drawled. "Just stay like this for a few minutes while I lather, rinse, repeat. You don't mind, do you?"

Ryan bit the inside of his cheek to keep from mouthing off and giving Shane any more reason to procrastinate. Instead, he watched in fascination as he squirted the gooey substance across his two fingers, spreading it liberally before his hand disappeared and Ryan was biting his tongue for an entirely different reason. 

"Fuck, fuck, Shane," he panted, pressing his forehead against the wall, still cool despite the humidity of the running water. "God, that's _filthy_."

"I'm not getting the floor all wet to go searching for lube," Shane answered, his eyes never leaving his fingers as they slipped in and out of him. "Besides, I'm earning points for creativity, right?"

Ryan tried to respond, but he was left at a loss for words for the second time that afternoon. Shane's fingers twisted and brushed against the bundle of nerves inside him, drawing a sharp gasp and a high-pitched keen where words had failed him.

After scissoring the two of them until Ryan was near the point of rubbing against the wall just for the added stimulation, Shane relented and added a third finger before continuing his assault on Ryan's prostate. 

"Shane," he breathed, his biceps tense from the effort of holding himself up and his eyes screwed shut in anticipation. "Shane, I'm ready. Just do it already."

"Need more, baby?" Shane asked, so calm and unhurried that Ryan had to bite back a groan. "You know all you have to do is ask."

Oh, that _bastard_.

He wouldn't. He wouldn't do it. He could outlast Shane, who had to be just as hard as he was. He was determined to be the victor in this battle of wills.

There was no way that Shane Madej would make him beg. 

"Shane, please f- _Oh_ ," he cried out seconds later, jumping at the sudden strike against his most sensitive spot from Shane's deft, overly long fingers. " _Please_ fuck me."

"Was that so hard?" Shane whispered in his ear, so smug that Ryan briefly considered telling him to go fuck himself out of spite. That idea, however, evaporated as soon as Shane removed his fingers, stepping forward and pressing Ryan flat against the shower wall with his own body weight. He took one of Ryan's hands in his own, raised it above his head and pinned it there, then used the other to adjust himself before he pressed inside of him, inch by inch, in one smooth, agonizingly slow thrust. 

Shane's thick cock filled him in the most delicious way possible, stretching and burning and driving Ryan to the brink even before he started to fuck him properly. He clung to his hand for purchase, grateful for it even if he didn't have to presence of mind to say so. 

Shane, seeming to realize that Ryan was both lacking regular lubrication and on the brink of coming already, gave him a few minutes to adjust to the size of him and attempted to keep him distracted by kissing along his damp, bare shoulder. He had the decency, at least, to act like it wasn't easy for him, moaning against Ryan's skin and trembling just slightly against his back with the effort to keep still.

"I don't know how long I'm gonna last," he confessed breathlessly. He shifted the hand that had guided his cock to hold Ryan's hip in a way that Ryan hoped would leave marks that would last for days. 

"If you're saying that to make me feel better, I appreciate it," Ryan panted, smirking and turning his head to steal a kiss from Shane's lips. His legs burned from pivoting and sugar-footing even before Shane had dragged him into a round of shower sex, and he was far too revved up by Shane's manhandling and teasing to drag things out for much longer. 

He gave Shane's hand two quick squeezes, signaling that he was ready, and gasped when it was answered by pulling halfway out and thrusting quickly back in. He set a rapid, bruising pace almost immediately, overwhelming Ryan to the point that he could no longer form any recognizable words apart from Shane's name. He groped blindly until his free hand found Shane's dripping wet hair, curling his fingers into it and giving his locks a slight tough as encouragement.

He felt like a tightly-coiled spring, a shaken-up soda bottle ready to explode. His toes curled involuntarily against the floor of the tub and his every muscle went taut as a bowstring beneath Shane's relentless thrusts into his tight passage, trying desperately to hold off the inevitable for as long as possible.

"Shane," he whimpered, not caring how desperate he sounded. A slight shift changed the angle of Shane's thrusts, and when he struck his prostate dead-on, Ryan shoved his face into his elbow to keep from screaming loud enough to frighten the neighbors.

Shane, sensing that Ryan was dangling over a precipice, dropped Ryan's hand and wrapped his fingers around his cock instead to finally give him relief. A few slow drags along his length was all the stimulation he needed to send him spiraling over the edge.

"Shane, I can't," Ryan begged, unsure what exactly he was asking for as he thrust helplessly into Shane's fist. "I'm coming, I'm-I- Shane!"

The intensity of his orgasm washed over his entire body, bringing him to a climax that nearly made his legs give out. He slipped into a daze as Shane continued to stroke him through it, whining and shuddering when he became so painfully sensitive between Shane's touch and the warmth that filled his ass when he came inside him that he could hardly stand it. 

"Ryan?" Shane asked gently.

He cracked an eye open, half-lidded and woozy. "Shane?"

"Did you fall asleep on me?"

Ryan didn't answer for a while, wiping away the droplets that had collected on his eyelashes. "I don't know, dude. I think I might have blacked out for a second." 

"Holy shit."

"No, no, I'm fine," Ryan insisted, gently pulling Shane's arms away as proof that he could stand on his own. Just because he could, however, didn't mean that he necessarily wanted to, especially now that the water was starting to run cold and Shane's body heat was so inviting. "Just tired, and it's super humid in here. I don't even mean it as a euphemism when I say I got overheated." 

"You're sure you're okay now?" Shane asked, clear concern etched in his face as he turned Ryan in a slow circle and thoroughly looked him over. He wasn't sure what Shane expected to find, but he seemed satisfied in the end that Ryan wasn't about to slip into a coma and bust his head open on the bathroom floor. 

"I just had the best sex of my life, big guy. You should be proud of yourself," Ryan answered, a lopsided smile forming on his lips as he gave Shane a congratulatory pat on the shoulder. "Now hand me the showerhead so I can rinse the shampoo out of my asshole."

"For the record," Shane explained, ignoring Ryan's request and taking it upon himself to do it for him instead, "I didn't come in you while you were blacked out. I'm not, like, a necrophiliac or anything, no matter how much we like to talk about dead bodies."

Ryan wrinkled his nose, sighing happily despite the morbid change in subject. "Here I thought you were being a gentleman, and then you had to go and ruin it by mentioning the whole 'sex with dead people' thing. You're lucky I already came, because that is the biggest turn-off I could possibly imagine."

Grinning to himself, Shane kissed Ryan's back as he rose to his full height. He returned the showerhead and cranked off the water faucet before grabbing two fluffy white towels from the rack above the toilet, wrapping Ryan up before attempting to dry himself off. He picked up the glasses he had left on the edge of the sink and, after using the corner of his towel to wipe away the condensation that had built up on the lenses, slid them back onto his nose. When he turned around to offer Ryan his own pair, he nearly doubled over in laughter at the sight of him without a word.

"What?" Ryan asked, instinctively covering himself before remembering that Shane had just fucked him within an inch of losing consciousness. It probably wasn't his nudity, then, that launched him into a sudden giggling fit. "What is it?"

Shane dutifully handed over Ryan's glasses, waiting for him to put them on before he pointed him to the bathroom mirror. Even through the mist, Ryan finally noticed what was so funny.

"I never rinsed the shampoo out out my hair," he said, already sounding exhausted as he stared at the heap of soapy bubbles adorning his head.

Shane glanced back and forth between Ryan and the shower, wiggling his eyebrows before the tub had even finished draining. "Need a hand?"

**Author's Note:**

>  **[SPOILER ALERT]** Ryan briefly blacks out (though he never fully loses consciousness) after they're finished having sex. Shane mentions that he didn't realize Ryan had passed out, but nothing sexual happens in the meantime.
> 
> They also make brief jokes about necrophilia, but nothing even remotely close to that actually happens. **[END SPOILER ALERT]**
> 
> I have a bad habit of starting fics and never finishing them, and since this one is such a timely one anyway, I decided not to spend weeks second-guessing myself and over-editing it. I didn't have a beta, so if anyone spots any errors, feel free to point them out! There's a possibility I might post a sequel if the inspiration keeps up, so keep an eye out if you enjoy this one.
> 
> This should go without saying, but do not share this fic with anyone mentioned in it (or anyone who knows anyone mentioned in it).
> 
> Kudos and comments are always welcomed and appreciated!


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